Wyvern Brothers
by DQueenie13
Summary: A collection of one-shots about Glen, Cormag, and the Imperial Three (or Six). The one-shots aren't in chronological order.
1. Brotherly Love

**Author's Note: **This fic was originally written for someone on tumblr. I think the Imperial Three need more love. Yes.

The story takes place two years before the main storyline. Headcanons are in abundance here, because we don't know enough about them.

* * *

Cormag threw himself into the fresh, clean, once-neat sheets (not anymore) of Glen's bed as his brother watched with an amused chuckle. "You generals really do get the best, Brother," Cormag commented after rolling onto his back.

"Well, we're generals for a reason. The best get the best, right?"

Glen laughed as Cormag turned away and buried his face into the pillow after a scowl crossed his face. They had their little sibling rivalry, but Glen always won in the end. It was something that Cormag both loved and hated. While he was proud that his brother was one of the strongest in Grado, he _loathed_ the fact that he just couldn't best him no matter how hard he tried.

"You could stay here for the night, Cormag," Glen offered, seeing how comfortable his younger brother was on the plush bed.

"Shut up."

"That breaks my heart, little brother."

Cormag decided not to dignify the gentle teasing with any response, and there was an extended moment of silence between them. Considering that Glen was a pretty talkative person (much to the glee of the girls who swooned over him), it made Cormag slightly uncomfortable. Turning back to glance at his brother, Cormag rolled his eyes and gave an exasperated sigh. The expression on Glen's face was the one he wore whenever he was feeling nostalgic; a gentle and sad, yet proud, glimmer danced in his eyes and graced his smile. By now, Cormag knew what was coming.

"Oh, just get it over with, Brother," he grumbled as he sat up. "You've been nostalgic a lot recently. Is something wrong?"

Glen just shook his head before walking over to Cormag and wrapping his arms around the younger brother, pressing Cormag's head to his shoulder. "You've grown so much, little brother. … I'm so proud of you, Cormag."

"Yes, yes … can you let go now?"

"No." Glen stroked Cormag's hair like he did when they were kids, working in the field, and Cormag's hands were rubbed raw. They could still remember life at home, working restlessly from sunrise till sunset just so they could wake up the next day with whatever meager gains they had made. Cormag wouldn't admit it to anyone now, but back then, he would cry a lot. His hands hurt, his body was sore, he was hungry, he was tired, he was lonely, why couldn't they have what those rich kids had (their family was dirt poor and had been for generations), where were mom and dad (begging for food, but Glen couldn't tell him that). At some point, he gave up complaining, but he still felt a pang of guilt knowing that his older brother had been pelted with these same questions day after day, week after week, month after month. And yet never once, in his memory, did Glen ever even show signs of being annoyed or frustrated at him for it.

The sound of sniffling brought Cormag out of his thoughts as he realized that Glen had, at some point, leaned his own head on Cormag's shoulders. _Is … is Brother crying?_

He saw Glen hastily raise his arms to wipe away tears, confirming his thoughts.

"Tch. You're a general, Brother, you shouldn't cry so easily like this."

"I'm a general, so what? Can't we feel emotions like everyone else?" There was nothing Cormag could say to retort, so he remained silent as Glen let go to recompose himself. With a heavy sigh, Glen dropped himself onto the bed, the soft mattress and pillows cushioning him.

"Cormag, remember when you got that scar?"

The younger brother placed two fingers to the scar across his cheek. "Yes. Why?"

"I always think about that day … you were so young then. Five, maybe?"

"It was around a year before His Majesty's procession came through, so I was five."

"Mm. I'll always remember that day like it was yesterday. … I've never told you this, but that was the most terrifying day of my life." He covered his eyes with his arm as he began reminiscing. "When the wolves started approaching you, I … I was so scared …"

"..." Cormag didn't care if he was gaping; he just couldn't imagine his older brother, his confident, smiling, talented brother, being terrified.

"At first, it was of the wolves … I had no idea how I, a ten-year-old boy, could possibly fight them off … but then I heard your scream. I saw you hit the ground and then I was … I …" Glen rubbed at his eyes with his arm again. "I was so afraid that they'd kill you, and I … I don't even really know what happened after, I was so caught up in the moment. But you were so bloodied, I thought you were lost for sure … Cormag, I … seeing you all grown up like this, I couldn't ask for a better little brother ..."

Cormag laid down beside his brother. "And for the next few days after that, you stuck to me like glue. And I … I remember, um …" His voice trailed off in embarrassment. "I … I-I thought that you were the best brother I could ever wish for, and I, uh, I wouldn't want anyone else …" Unsure of how to end the sentence, Cormag just coughed awkwardly and turned away so he wouldn't have to see Glen's reaction.

As it turned out, he didn't have to see to find out, because Glen burst out into laughter several moments later.

"What the hell's so funny, Brother?! -Gah!" Before Cormag could protest, Glen had grabbed him into another hug, although much more playful and teasing than the previous one.

"Heh, we really are brothers, aren't we? Both having trouble expressing ourselves - we really do have the same blood running through our veins! Ha ha, you should've heard yourself stuttering, that was too cute!"

"Shut up!" Cormag struggled to break free, but to no avail as his brother simply laughed harder and ruffled his hair fondly. "And-stop-this!"

"Nope, you're still my baby brother, so you'll allow me this," Glen responded tauntingly. Finally, he let go and just leaned against the bed's headboard, laughing heartily.

Although he was annoyed by his older brother's gestures of affection, Cormag still found the laughter to be contagious, and soon joined in. It was appropriate for Glen to have been named the Sunstone. Glen was, and would always be, his sun.

* * *

Selena the Fluorspar stood outside Glen's door, poised to knock, but hesitated and lowered her hand. She hadn't overheard all of the conversation, but simply _hearing_ Glen and Cormag's laughter filled her with joy.

"Is something wrong, Selena?" Duessel noticed her standing at the door and walked over.

"No, it's nothing. … Those are fine boys you've raised, Duessel."

"Raised? These old bones? Hardly, Selena. Those boys made it this far on their own, with their unwavering determination, honor, and skill."

"... With all this talk, people would mistake us for parents," she chuckled.

"Perhaps you will be one, someday," Duessel suggested. "You have time."

Selena shook her head in response. "I fancy myself fighting and dying in His Majesty's service, or better yet, living out my life in a world of peace."

He nodded in agreement. "We all pray the same, Selena."


	2. Scribbles

"_You lads are good at driving off dogs with stones ... Your skills are wasted in the fields. Let's see how you fare with spears instead."_

It had been three days since Emperor Vigarde had personally enlisted Glen and Cormag. While Cormag was still a bit too young to venture around on his own, Glen was allowed to wander about the halls of the castle pretty freely, barring some exceptions such as the throne room (obviously).

Glen looked around at the myriad of pathways eagerly. He intended to bring back some exciting stories to his little brother, who had protested rather vocally when informed that he couldn't wander about the castle like his older brother could. Cormag had finally calmed down after being soothed with the words that he would be told everything that Glen experienced, so Glen felt that it was necessary to experience as much as he could so that Cormag wouldn't miss out on anything.

Seeing a big, intricately-designed door, Glen looked at the sigils engraved on it. He knew that they were letters - he had seen them all the time, but had no idea what they read or meant. After all, in the poor village he had grown up in, few of his social class were literate, too impoverished to worry about such luxuries. Deciding to take his chances, he pushed the door open and sneaked inside. Looking around, he took a gasp of wonder and awe. Inside the room were rows upon rows of cases that held rectangular objects of varying colors, mostly muted greens and blues and reds. Some desks and chairs were set up here and there, and men in long robes and tunics sat about, staring at thin sheets of paper filled with more scribbles of marks.

Feeling somewhat daunted and out-of-place, Glen darted from shelf-to-shelf, wondering what exactly this room was for. He had learned by now that those men in robes were mages, utilizing arcane powers to heal allies or devastate their enemies. But he was more a soldier than a mage, better with physical prowess than intellectual studying. Spotting an important-looking man in heavy armor sitting at a desk, Glen decided to venture closer. In fact, the man was so engrossed with his rectangular paper-holder that he didn't notice the young boy's presence. Glen peered at the sheets of paper, but he couldn't understand anything. They were filled with complicated-looking scribbles that were for the smart, rich people.

"Hm?" The man noticed his presence now, and patted the small blonde head as if he were a father talking to his son. "Ah, you must be the boy Glen that His Majesty had mentioned, are you not?"

"Y-yes, sir …"

"I'm Duessel, the Obsidian, one of the Imperial Three." Seeing Glen's small, shocked gasp, he chuckled and continued, "Oh, no, no … I'm not a scary person, at least I don't think. Come, stay here. There's nothing better than teaching others, after all." He stood up, moved his imposing figure to a chair, and carried it over next to his own. Glen sheepishly sat in the seat as Duessel returned to his place.

"What - what is that?" Glen pointed curiously at the rectangular object.

"This? It's a book. I'm reading about battle tactics that our predecessors have developed and experimented with."

"Pr-prede-?"

"Predecessors are people who have come before us; those who have lived and died before we came along."

"Battle tac...tics…?"

"They are different ways that we plan how to attack our enemies and defend our own troops. Having good tactics ensures that we fight the best that we can."

"Wh...what is this room …?"

"This room?" Duessel's eyes wandered the magnificent ceiling of the room, following Glen's lead. "This is a library. Many, many books-" he tapped on the large, open book he had been reading "-are stored here. If you want to learn more, you come in here. At times, this place can prove to be rather relaxing, even. You should stop by here often."

Looking at the indecipherable print on the pages, a sense of shame and inadequacy filled Glen's heart. Although he did his best to hide it, large teardrops rolled out of his eyes and landed on the clenched hands that rested on his lap. These books were for the rich, the privileged, the smart, none of which he was. Before this, his only memory of books were those of the imposing, balding men who occasionally visited the village. He never really knew what those men came for, but he knew that after they came, father would always have an angry look on his face and they wouldn't be able to eat for the next couple of days because they had to sell all that they grew, only to lose that money to the men with books.

Mother would always apologize profusely, first to him, and then to Cormag as well after he was born; sorry for being so poor, sorry for making them go hungry, sorry for being a bad mother, sorry that she couldn't make a good life for them … Glen had never understood why she had to apologize for it. But now, looking at the foreign, alien glyphs on the paper, he felt as though he could touch a bit of mother's agony. It was just so far beyond him that he didn't know if he would ever become as good as those men in cloth, those men who were able to toss coins as if they were a toy.

"Glen, what's wrong?" Worry was etched into the general's face as he saw tears of anger and anguish fall from the boy's eyes. Connecting the dots between what Emperor Vigarde had told him about Glen and Cormag to his brief interaction with the elder brother, he realized the answer to his question and was filled with sympathy. He placed a reassuring hand on Glen's shoulder. "Look, boy. You are still young, and you have plenty of time to learn. Why don't I teach you how to read and write?"

The boy looked up, his eyes wide in surprise. His facial expressions and reactions were so honest and genuine, Duessel couldn't help but feel a paternal pull towards him. "Really? You'll make me like those smart people?"

Duessel chuckled, amused at the boy's choice of words, and saw that some of the mages nearby that had overheard their conversation were also stifling their laughter. Bless his heart, Glen hadn't noticed at all, too enthralled by the proposal to notice. Duessel patted Glen's head again, continuing, "Of course. There's nothing better than teaching others, after all. I can't start right now because I don't have the right stuff with me, but … let's see … why don't we meet every day at, ah, five in the afternoon?"

Seeing the quizzical look on the boy's face, he realized that _oh right, telling time was also for the 'smart people.' _Scratching his head, Duessel looked for another way to organize things in a way that Glen understood.

"Er, well … why don't I come and fetch you every day, as the sun starts hitting … well, where it is now?" Glen looked out the window. As a boy from a farming family, he at least knew how to read the sun, and understood Duessel's intentions. He nodded eagerly, his blonde hair bobbing up and down with his movements.

Duessel ruffled Glen's hair before dismissing him with "Then we'll start tomorrow, okay?" After another curt nod, Glen scampered off, presumably to find his brother.

"... Oh, what have I gotten myself into …?" Duessel kneaded his temples. Really, he was always causing more trouble for himself. "... Well, the boy shows promise. He'll grow up to be a fine young man, I'm sure of it."

* * *

Cormag sulked, sitting on the edge of the bed he was now sharing with his brother. It was much comfier and spacious than the tiny mat on the floor they had at home. Or, well, what _was_ their home. The castle, with the knights, was their home now.

He watched the sun begin to dip down below the horizon. It was strange, sitting inside at this hour, doing nothing when he was accustomed to toiling over the fields all day. Also, Glen wasn't here like he usually was. Even when they were working, panting, sweating, Glen would never stop talking. Half the times, Cormag wasn't sure what Glen was talking about. He wasn't sure if his _brother_ himself knew what he was spouting. But just the sound of Glen's voice always made him feel less lonely, and it carried him throughout the day. And right now, that voice was gone. Glen had wandered off to explore the castle and left him all alone in here.

Cormag wrapped the blanket around him tightly, as if to fend off the thought that Glen had forgotten about him. He didn't need to block the idea out, though, because not even a second later, he heard small but speedy footsteps approaching the door. It opened and he heard the voice that he already started to miss.

"Cormag!" Glen closed the door and, seeing his brother, ran over and dove towards him, tackling the younger brother onto his back. "Cormag, guess what?!" His younger brother's large, innocent eyes stared back at him in curiosity, but Cormag said nothing, so Glen continued. "I met Sir Duessel, one of the Imperial Three!"

"Imperial … Three?"

"That's right, they're the best of the Empire! The strongest!" Seeing his brother's eyes light up, it sparked even more excitement in Glen. "And Sir Duessel, he was - he was a great person! He reminded me of dad, a bit!" Glen dropped himself onto the bed and rolled from side to side in his excitement.

"Brother, what is it?" Knowing that there was more to the story, Cormag pressed himself closer to Glen to catch his attention.

"Oh, you won't believe it! Cormag, Sir Duessel said he'd teach me how to read and write! Just like the smart people! Oh, mother would be so proud of us. She won't have to cry anymore! If we learn how to read and write, join the Grado army … we can support mother and father! They won't have to go to bed praying that we'll be able to survive winter, or praying that we'll survive unlike some of the others …"

"... Mother … do you think mother's worried about us? The last thing she knew, we were being taken away by the soldiers … she must be …"

Cormag's words reminded Glen that they hadn't returned to the village yet. "Ah … mother must be heartbroken, that's right …" He tousled Cormag's hair. "You're always so responsible and caring, Cormag. I'd forgotten that we didn't return to the village to tell mother and father we'd been enlisted in the army … perhaps General Duessel will allow us to go back, okay?"

Cormag nodded determinedly and shook away the tears that were forming in the corners of his eyes. He'd make mother and father proud. He'd break away from the fate of being a peasant farmer that flowed in his veins, work harder than he'd ever worked before, and become the best ...


	3. And I Can't Live This Life Without You

Glen/Selena - "and I can't live this life without you by my side"

* * *

Whenever Glen returned from battle with scratches or bruises that hadn't been attended to, Selena would run over to his side and heal him. It was a habit that began when she first joined the military and was placed under his command. He was a Lieutenant General at the time, as the adjutant of the previous Sunstone, but he was her superior officer nonetheless. Even though he insisted that she didn't need to waste her staves on such minor injuries, she always used the excuse that she was practicing her skill with staves. He never bought it—it showed in his eyes—but he let her do what he wished.

Unlike Duessel, Valter, Tirado, and several other high-ranking Grado officers, they weren't born into nobility. They were both born as peasants who barely scraped through by tilling the land. Although they came from different villages, their stories of home were similar, and a sense of camaraderie quickly formed between the two of them. They bonded over silly things, like the kind of local food they had at home that was harder to find in the capital, to the games they'd play with the other kids in the village when they had a scrap of spare time, to the kinds of flowers they'd get their mothers for the Festival of Parents that was celebrated throughout Grado every year.

The days that they spent together turned from days, into months, into years. Before long, Glen became a General after the retirement of the former Sunstone, and Selena beamed as she watched the ceremony. To either side of Emperor Vigarde stood General Duessel and General Valter, both with proud smiles on their faces. Duessel, with all of the fatherly pride that he was famous for, wrapped an arm around Glen's shoulders and roughly mussed his hair with a hearty laugh. For as crass and dismissive as Valter was, he still gave Glen a fairly genuine congratulation after the ceremony was over before slipping away.

* * *

Selena too became a General, after Valter's exile. She never knew the details, and something inside her whispered that she didn't really _want_ to know, either. Nonetheless, she was proud to serve her Emperor, and fought for him with a passion that caused some rumors to fly up. Naturally, she laughed off the ones that said that she had an _eros_ love for Vigarde; he was much older than her, and it was his honor, wisdom, and caring heart that she loved. Bemusedly, she noted whenever she caught wind of such talk that it was really only the women who were slapped with such rumors.

No one spoke of her relationship with Glen, despite the bond that the two shared. It may have been their professionalism, which made their public interaction seem much more restrained. In private though, the two of them were free to show their true selves to each other. Without a care in the world, he'd lay down on the floor of her private chambers (she always had trustworthy attendants accompanying them, one of them the woman Glen had promised himself to). He was always more comfortable feeling the earth against his back when he laid down, and the floor was the closest he'd get with their luxurious rooms. While she loved the soft pillows and blankets that beckoned her to them, feeling the ground served as a reminder of why she was there, and so she would join him. They would talk about all sorts of things: of home, of hardships, of strategies, of places to visit around Grado.

* * *

Eventually, though, their duties saw them separated. Glen and his younger brother, Cormag, were often sent around as border patrol. Disgruntled mercenaries from Carcino and Jehanna had started turning to banditry, and encroached on Grado and Renais' borders. Selena was sent to more remote areas of Grado, where Emperor Vigarde heard rumors of corrupt nobles and suffering peasants, to discern the truth and lay down justice if necessary. Their experiences changed them, and it was apparent with each subsequent meeting. Glen's expressions became more serious, more reserved—Selena reckoned that she never saw him smile after one particular mission to southern Grado, which involved quelling a coup. She slowly became more fanatical in her defense of her emperor, as she witnessed, time and time again, greedy nobles spewing their twisted version of his ideals to manipulate the people.

So when she saw Cormag's face in Bethroen, left behind by Glen who had gone in search of Princess Eirika, she felt a nagging sensation in the pit of her stomach. Emperor Vigarde's orders to eliminate the traitorous Duessel. Caellach's careless massacre of Frelia's soldiers. Her own words to Glen in the last time they'd talked face-to-face, admonishing him for questioning His Majesty's behavior. They were like weights on her conscience, trying to grab her attention. But she'd promised to never falter in her duty to her emperor. And so the only words that came out of her mouth when Cormag, too, questioned his duty were more words of chastisement, much like she had given to his brother.

Not long after, though, did Valter arrive with his new adjutant Beran. As she saw him sweep through the doors of the fortress, as she saw the sadistic smirk on his face widening, her mind wandered to one of the nights she spent talking with Glen, about the ambitious recruits and how their self-centered fancies were dragging the Grado army down.

_"__You understand me, Selena. And you think the same, right? Honestly," he sighed, "I don't think I'd be here without you by my side."_

Where did it all go wrong?

* * *

Author's Notes: I stole one of the unfilled Nagamas prompts, from the 2014 Summer Bonus Round. When I started writing this, I was on board with Glen/Selena as a romantic pairing, but over the months, as I've analyzed FE8's story, I've stopped pairing them. As a result, this fic has somewhat romantic undertones even though the two of them state in the story that they see their relationship in a platonic light.


End file.
